


Consider the Stakes

by 88SkittlesPH



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John Watson, Blood and Violence, Idiots in Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Reichenbach, Science Experiments, Slow Romance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25880836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/88SkittlesPH/pseuds/88SkittlesPH
Summary: (Yes the title is a pun.)John Watson has Sherlock Holmes back and has finally thrown the whole "not gay" bit out of the window. They're taking the relationship changes slowly but blissfully.But waiting so long to tell Sherlock how much he loves him is not John's only regret.There are older things he should tell the detective, darker things. Things he really wants to share with the madman. Now with his mind made up, just how will Sherlock respond?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Consider the Stakes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a recent brainchild. I’m not planning on it lasting more than a handful of chapters but who knows? That could be an accidental lie. I’m going to do my best to keep everyone as in-character as possible.  
> Major thank you to my beta sherlockforever56! She is super helpful and I'm excited to work on this with her.
> 
> Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the characters here created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or written by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat for the BBC show Sherlock. I make no money from this posting.

Lips twitching into a fond smile, John Watson removed himself from listening at the closed door of his flatmate. The murmur of even breaths made their way through the wood enough times to convince the doctor that yes, indeed, Sherlock was sound asleep.

Heh, rare chance.

They had done quite a bit of running this time. There was always plenty of that when they hunted the criminal element. Yet this most recent endeavor had required quite an extensive amount of legwork and well, even the energetic and fit detective wasn’t exactly 20 anymore. John had managed to win a very brief argument convincing the other man to eat a full dinner before he rested. He didn’t even need to kiss the man to claim victory in this instance.

Oh, yes. Flatmate, sure. Best friend, without a doubt. Lover… this was something new. Something they were being deliberate about. Slow. They had both agreed when Sherlock had returned from his 2 years abroad taking down Moriarty’s network. John had been furious to put it lightly. He had been on a date, someone who had been able to distract him while he mourned Sherlock. After knocking him around, John regretted his violent temper. So he had cut the nurse loose.

John Watson had spent his entire existence without the closeness, need, and devotion he had with Sherlock Holmes. He couldn’t pretend with her after finding that the one who he had continued existing for was alive. Not only alive, but returned to him. For the sole purpose of coming back to his life with John. The next day he had broken it off, packed his bags and snogged the hell out of Sherlock upon re-entering 221-B Baker St.

‘He has no idea how long though,’ John now thought to himself. ‘How long I have been alone. Years, ages, eons it feels like.’

Sipping from his warmed mug (using the microwave had been why he was checking on the status of Sherlock’s rest) John then sighed in pleasure. The rich liquid made its way down his throat easing his thirst and lessening his anxiety. With a sigh, the man sat in his worn armchair. He gazed at Sherlock’s empty one while gulping down more of his drink. Taking in the indentations left behind by his partner’s body John chuckled to himself.

“Not a clue,” he said quietly. “I’m not the only one not observing. But I know why that is. He has no reason to think I’m hiding something so why look? Is he that stuck on what he believes me to be or am I that good I have to wonder?”

“No one’s that clever…” echoed in his mind.

Another twitchy smile. “He is, though. I thought he’d figure something out within a couple of months of me having moved in. Never a word if he had an inkling.” Finishing off the mug John set it upon the side table next to him. “And if he had one he’d never be able to stave off his curiosity. That much I know.”  
It had been a major regret when he was convinced Sherlock was gone. He’d barely been able to see the body or anything so of course he’d been fooled. Even for him a good knock to the head could make him fuzzy. Gone, his brilliant fantastic detective gone and he’d never worked up the courage to tell him. Not only that he was head over heels oh, no.

John stood and peered in the mirror above the mantle, a bit on his tip-toes due to lacking height. His cheeks had now regained color and he could feel a bit of vigor return. His eyes looked clearer since he’d ingested a bit of real food.

Not admitting his feelings was not John Watson’s only regret when he lost Sherlock. He also regretted never telling him the big missing piece Sherlock had never noticed to be gone from the Watson puzzle. At first it had been a game. ‘The man is so captivating and fun and genius. Let's see how long it takes him to notice something not quite right.’ However perfectly brilliant Sherlock Holmes is he had never said a word. If anything he was more confused by John’s very “normal” traits. This only made John more fond and before he knew it he was drowning in his fondness for the other man. Even worse, then it had been so long how do you bring up such a topic to a man who only believes the laws of science?

A wry smile formed in the mirror before him. John had been angry at the deception and the lies surrounding Sherlock’s disappearance from his life, yet how was he any better?

“A relationship.” John’s murmur was low and careful. “One where we love each other without walls between. God, I need to fix this.”

Eyes closed and scrubbing his face with his hands John listened again. He could hear Sherlock’s breathing had hitched a bit while he shuffled in his sleep but now continued on. He could hear the cabs outside and footsteps falling carefully on wet pavement. Mrs. Hudson had fallen asleep with her telly on low volume again but John could make out every word…

He just wanted to love the man. The problem was he also wanted to keep Sherlock. Which meant honesty.

Upon opening his eyes he could tell his pallor, though improved, wasn’t quite 100% normal and he’d need another mug. Another bag, heated.

More blood.

Not having to monitor his speed John had another round heating in seconds while he leaned against the kitchen table with his arms crossed over his chest. Hugging his scratchy jumper even closer to his form.

He couldn’t put it off much more. Not now. Not with what they were promising each other. Not if he wanted to relax with Sherlock fully, truly known. And he did want that. More than he ever desired anything in hundreds of years.

Centuries of waiting for Sherlock Holmes to be born, to exist, to drag John into his dangerous life and give him reason to continue on even longer.

Almost instantaneously John stopped the microwave before the last beep, closed it and began guzzling down the next batch of sustenance.

“One week,” Dr. Watson said out loud; properly so as to solidify the thought. “One more week of this easy bliss and I will tell him everything. So if it all goes down the tubes I had something.”

John Watson nodded to himself in the mirror, drained his mug, and went up to his room. Dawn was approaching now and it was time to make it look as though he had slept the night through.


End file.
